


I couldn’t hide from the thunder

by turnitintolove



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Alternate Universe, Deaf Character, F/F, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, modern setting but barely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 16:38:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15392949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnitintolove/pseuds/turnitintolove
Summary: A fresh start.  That’s what this was, a fresh start with new people.  New people who hopefully wouldn’t ask about the first few words her soulmate was meant to say to her; or if they did ask her maybe they wouldn’t judge her.





	I couldn’t hide from the thunder

**Author's Note:**

> Because my brain thought, why not do a soulmate a/u with a twist?
> 
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Title comes from Florence + the Machine

“Ladies, I’d like to welcome our newest addition to Nonnatus House,” Sister Julienne motions to the woman beside her, “this is Delia Busby. She’s joining us from The London.”

Delia gives a small wave and smiles at the nurses sat in the living room, relaxing some at the warm and easy smiles she receives. “Hello!”

“Trixie,” Sister Julienne motions for her to help, “would you mind showing Nurse Busby to the box room?”

“Not at all Sister.” Trixie rises to shake Delia’s hand and motions for her to follow up the stairs. “The room is a little small, but you do have it to yourself. If I remember correctly the window sticks a bit in the summer.”

Delia smiles and follows her into the small but neat room. The single bed and small dresser reminds her of her room at the Nurses Home, but somehow warmer and more welcoming. “Thank you, this is perfect.”

“Dinner is in an hour and you can meet everyone else, or at least who hasn’t been called out.”

Once Delia has been left alone she unpacks and sits on the edge of her new bed. A fresh start. That’s what this was, a fresh start with new people. New people who hopefully wouldn’t ask about the first few words her soulmate was meant to say to her; or if they did ask her maybe they wouldn’t judge her. She’d already noticed the neat script in the crook of Trixie’s arm and felt the familiar pang of jealousy at how easy they seem.

Sitting at the dining table turned out to be exhausting for Delia. It had already been a long day and she was struggling to remember who was who. Though she was grateful when Trixie had leaned over to whisper, “My room at half eight, feel free to wear pajamas.”

So at half eight Delia found herself knocking gently on Trixie’s door before peering in to find Trixie standing at a makeshift bar and Barbara sitting on one of the two beds typing away on her phone.

Barbara looks up from her phone and tosses it to the side, “Delia! You came!”

“I did, are we allowed to drink?” She asks eyeing the glass being handed to her.

Trixie smiles as she hands Barbara her own glass, “No one has said we can’t. Though no one asks and we don’t say anything.”

“I see,” Delia clinks her glass against Trixie’s and Barbara’s, “you two seem to have made this room nice and cozy.”

“Oh Barbara isn’t my roommate,” Trixie shakes her head.

“I’m just down the hall with Phyllis. This is Patsy’s bed, she’s out on call with Phyllis now, I’m sure you’ll meet them in the morning if they’re not back soon.”

Trixie catches Delia glancing at the writing on her arm and smiles, “ _Oh, hello_.” She chuckles, “Not much to go on is there? I must say it’s been interesting introducing myself to people.”

“I think it’s terribly romantic,” Barbara sighs.

“You think everything is terribly romantic.” Trixie rolls her eyes though Delia can see there’s no malice behind it. “Barbara’s is simply adorable, the poor soul must find you so beautiful they can’t form a complete word.”

Delia laughs, “How so?”

It must be something Trixie points out often because Barbara blushes and shyly pulls her collar away from her neck to show the words _I-I-I, you have beautiful eyes_ along her shoulder.

“Oh that is terribly romantic Barbara,” Delia squeezes her knee and says, “Well, you do have beautiful eyes. So they’re not wrong.”

Trixie clears her throat and looks pointedly at Delia, “Well? We’ve shown you ours.”

The room is quiet as Delia spins the glass between her hands. “I don’t have one,” she lies.

Both Trixie and Barbara exchange a look of concern, “You don’t have one?”

Delia shakes her head, “I don’t.”

“I’ve never heard of that,” Trixie says. And then wonders, “Do you think the nuns have one?”

The question breaks the brief tension and Delia laughs, “Well I can guarantee I’m not a nun!” She quickly downs the rest of her drink and smiles gratefully when Trixie stands to refill it, even more grateful that no one seems particularly bothered by her perceived difference. “Tell me about these two I haven’t met yet, Patsy and Phyllis?”

Barbara leans back on her elbows and smiles, “Phyllis can be a bit tough, but she’s really very kind. And Patsy is well, a bit of the same but younger.”

“And taller,” Trixie adds.

Barbara laughs, “Yes, much taller.”

“And stubborn,” Trixie adds again. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman so stubborn and so determined at Patience Mount. You’ll love her, really.”

“I’m sure I will,” Delia laughs.

As if on cue, the door to the bedroom opens and Patsy steps in and looks around the room. Delia takes her in and smiles at her height and the exasperated look on her face.

“Patsy!” Barbara calls out, “This is Delia, the new nurse.” Patsy gives a small smile and quickly takes Delia in.

“I’ve heard so much about you I feel I already love you!” Delia laughs as she stands to shake Patsy’s hand, her smile falters when Patsy just stares at her.

It takes Patsy a moment before she shakes her hand then begins to move her hands quickly. Delia stares, unsure of what is happening.

“She says she’s happy to meet you.” Trixie supplies, though she’s eyeing Delia with a new look. “We didn’t mention she’s deaf, did we?” Patsy taps Trixie’s shoulder and waits for her to turn around, “Sorry, we didn’t tell her you were deaf.”

“She reads lips rather well,” Barbara whispers when Delia sits back down.

“I see,” she nods, “and you all know how to sign?”

“Some of us better than others,” she waves a hand at Trixie, “she’s a whiz really, I still stumble along a bit and Phyllis is taking a class so she can stop having to text her all the time. She hates texting, Phyllis, says it’s ruining human connections.”

Patsy sits on the bed next to Trixie with a glass of what looks like straight whisky and sighs, she downs most of it in one gulp and winces at the burn. She gives Trixie a half smile when she squeezes her knee, she deflates a bit and rests her head against Trixie’s shoulder.

“Rough night?” Barbara asks, and Delia notices now that she isn’t just an animated talker, she’s been signing almost everything she says.

Patsy shakes her head and sets her glass down on the floor before she replies.

Barbara translates as Patsy tells them about her night, “Breeched birth, but the mother and baby are fine. Phyllis is getting better but she somehow still tells me that the baby looks like a squirrel. A beautiful squirrel for the new parents.”

“A squirrel?” Barbara laughs and Patsy shrugs tiredly and brings her hand to rub at a spot below her collarbone.

The evening winds down soon after that, with Patsy eyeing her bed longingly and Delia feeling her own exhaustion creeping up her spine. Before she and Barbara part ways in the hall she asks where she might start to learn how to sign.

* * *

Delia doesn’t see much of Patsy over the next several days. She’s more like a ship passing in the night, though Delia gets the sense that Patsy has been avoiding her, though she can’t figure out why. She thinks it must be because they have no real way of communicating on their own. But she feels a pull towards her that she can’t explain. So she uses the time when they’re all together to study her, to figure out what it is that makes Patsy a bright spot in the dark corridors of Nonnatus House.

The scar just behind Patsy’s right ear is one of the first things she spots, then it’s the faint line on her cheekbone and the one above her left eyebrow. They’re all faint, clearly very old. She notices the way she bites her lip when she’s trying not to laugh, and the quirk of her lips when it seems she doesn’t have the energy to smile. But mostly she notices that Patsy won’t meet her eyes.

Though she sometimes catches Patsy staring at her.

* * *

It’s a chilly October evening when Delia and Trixie are making their way home after a long day that she asks, “Does Patsy not like me?”

Trixie eyes her for a moment, “What makes you say that?”

Delia shrugs and shifts her bag, “It seems like she’s been avoiding me. I’ve been here nearly three months and I don’t think we’ve ever had a conversation without you or Barbara there.”

There’s a pause while Trixie mulls over her thoughts, then, “Do you _want_ to have a conversation alone with Patsy?”

Delia can hear the implication and blushes, “She just seems to not like me is all. And since you’re her friend I thought I would ask.”

“Patsy likes you just fine.” Trixie says carefully. “She’s warry around new people, and what can come across as standoffish is really her way of testing the waters.” Trixie sighs and knows Patsy will be annoyed with her, but she continues on, “Patsy was in an accident when she was small. A car accident, she lost her mother and younger sister and also her hearing. Her father sent her to boarding school as soon as she was well enough and I don’t think she’s ever gotten over how the other girls treated her.

“I wouldn’t take it personally, really. She’s just very cautious around new people until she feels she can trust them. It took weeks before she would have more than a basic conversation with me. I think the only person she’s trusted off the bat was Babs, and I think it’s because she reminds Patsy of her sister.”

“I see,” Delia nods, still processing the new information.

“Give her time,” Trixie smiles, “once she trusts you she won’t shut up. And I have a feeling she’ll love you. She really is the best person I’ve ever known and she’s fiercely protective of the people she cares for.”

Delia smiles, grateful Trixie can’t see her blush in the dark. She can’t explain the pull she feels towards Patsy, but she’s relieved to find out Patsy doesn’t hate her.

“She’s also a massive cheat at cards.” Trixie adds as they round the corner and approach Nonnatus.

* * *

Delia excels in her sign language class and practices on her own with an app Barbara had recommended. She’s noticed Patsy becoming warmer towards her as the weather outside turns colder; her smiles more genuine and when Delia has caught her staring she’s quick to shift her eyes away as a blush spreads across her cheeks.

Patsy’s mood as a whole turns more somber as the holidays approach and Delia puts it down to having no family to celebrate with until Trixie tells her, “The accident was around Christmas.”

Delia starts shifting her schedule around so she’s in the kitchen most nights Patsy gets home late. The offer of tea and easy silence seems to help Patsy’s shoulders relax. Delia never pushes for conversation, seeing that Patsy is tired and sometimes in need of someone to just sit with.

She thinks she might be falling a little bit in love with Patsy.

* * *

The week before Christmas Delia overhears Trixie’s side of a conversation with Patsy. She’s on the landing and their door is open just enough that she can hear Trixie’s frustrated voice, “But why haven’t you told her?”

Patsy’s response seems to frustrate Trixie even more, “That’s a terrible excuse and you know it. Stop being such a bloody baby! No, no, shut up Patsy. I see the way she looks at you and –”

Delia stays still on the stairs, her hand gripping the bannister as she waits.

She hears Trixie sigh and then with a soft voice, “You are not broken.”

It makes Delia feel like an intruder then, and she slowly backs down and heads to sit in the living room next to Barbara and Sister Winifred.

“Everything alright Delia?” Sister Winifred asks as she looks over the edge of her novel.

Delia nods and asks Barbara quietly, “What does Patsy’s mark say?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, “she’s never shown me and I’ve never asked.” Barbara studies her, “Why?”

Delia tries to shrug off the question as mere curiosity, “No reason.” She tries to ignore the way Barbara narrows her eyes.

* * *

Nonnatus is quiet while Delia lies awake in her bed, the overheard conversation running through her head mixing with the little knowledge she has about Patsy’s past. It’s no wonder she’s so guarded and stubborn, really. A childhood spent fending for herself in a boarding school so far from the things she knows and the reminders of the people she’s lost.

The quiet is broken by what Delia thinks must be someone struggling. She’s quick to her feet and into the hall where she can hear the sounds coming from Patsy and Trixie’s room, though she knows Trixie is out on call. When she opens the door she can see Patsy in the light from the window shifting in her bed and mumbling in her sleep. Delia realizes quickly that it’s a nightmare and rushes to her bed to try and wake Patsy.

“Patsy, oh please wake up, please wake up.” She says to herself as she gently takes a hold of her shoulders. When Patsy wakes with a start she clicks on the lamp. Her hands smooth over Patsy’s arms, her cheeks, her shoulders. “It’s okay,” she tries to catch her eyes though Patsy’s dart around the room, her breathing heavy as she begins to calm.

That’s when Delia sees it, Patsy’s sleep shirt having shifted, the curly writing that looks like her own just under her left collarbone. _I’ve heard so much about you I feel I already love you!_ Her own first words to Patsy. She brushes her fingers over them and can feel Patsy’s heart beating beneath the skin there, she also hears the quick intake of breath when Patsy gasps.

Delia looks up into Patsy’s glassy eyes and realizes for the first time that Patsy hasn’t been cold to her, she’s been terrified. She cups her face gently and brushes the tears from her cheeks, relaxing some when Patsy lets out a deep breath and closes her eyes at the feel of her hands.

When Patsy opens her eyes again she says, _“I had a nightmare.”_

“I heard,” Delia tells her, her hand has found its way back to the words on Patsy’s collarbone; she feels her shiver despite the warmth of the room. She wants to ask why Patsy hasn’t told her, hasn’t shown her, but instead she removes her hand and asks, “What was it?”

Patsy’s eyes follow her hands instead of her lips, a hint of surprise at how fluid the motions are. _“I was in an accident when I was 11. Sometimes I dream about that, about my mother and my sister, how I couldn’t help them.”_

The room is mostly quiet, Patsy sniffs a few times and shifts where she sits. Delia brushes the fresh tears from Patsy’s cheeks, “Oh cariad.” Patsy’s eyebrows come together at the foreign word and Delia smiles, “It’s Welsh, it means love.” Delia tells her softly.

Patsy nods, her eyes not leaving Delia’s; and Delia senses the loss in her eyes. _“Would you stay?”_

Delia nods, “Of course,” and helps Patsy shift on the small bed so that Delia can hold her with Patsy’s head against her chest. She thinks Patsy can feel the beat of her heart rather than hear it, so she starts to hum some song she remembers her mother singing when she had nightmares. Patsy’s arm tightens around her waist and she thinks she’ll ask Patsy about the words in the morning.

When Trixie comes home a few hours later to find Patsy curled around Delia she smiles, “At least they’re not naked,” she mumbles to herself. She thinks about taking Delia’s room but is too exhausted to follow through and falls asleep in her own bed.

Delia wakes to find Patsy still breathing deeply and to Trixie perched on the edge of her bed smiling widely. “My my, how cozy this all is.” She chuckles at Delia’s expression, “Did she show you? Barbara would say this is all terribly romantic and I have to agree.”

“She had a nightmare,” Delia says softly, not wanting to wake Patsy. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew, she’s my best friend.” Trixie shrugs, “I’ve been trying to get her to tell you for weeks, but she’s stubborn.”

Delia remembers the conversation she’d overheard, _“You are not broken.”_

Trixie leaves them at the first sign of Patsy stirring, knowing her presence would only complicate matters more.

Patsy slowly sits up and blinks, she startles when she realizes Delia is still there.

“Good morning,” Delia smiles and tries to keep her eyes from the writing she can see in the daylight.

Patsy stares for a moment, _“I’m sorry.”_

“For what?”

 _“For waking you, for this,”_ she gestures to her collarbone, _“for –“_

Delia grabs at her hand, “Why are you sorry for that?”

Her only answer is to shrug and avoid Delia’s eyes. Delia sighs and cups Patsy’s face and presses a gentle kiss to her forehead before rising from the bed and leaving the room. She startles when she finds Trixie perched on her own bed looking like the cat who caught the mouse and a bowl of cream and possibly a fish.

“Why does Patsy think she’s broken?”

Trixie’s smile falls, “Did she tell you that?”

“No, I overheard you talking to her.”

Delia sits on the bed next to Trixie and watches her struggle for words, “Patsy was made to believe by her classmates, and I’m fairly sure her father, that she was broken. She’s never told me what they said or did, but it certainly left its mark.” Trixie looks at Delia, “I think she’s terrified of you, to be honest. She will never say it, but I think she’s scared you’ll think something is wrong with her.”

Delia stares as Trixie stands.

“Please don’t break her heart.”

* * *

Delia notices that Patsy has begun to avoid her again. The next few days are painful as she tries to catch Patsy alone. Even her texts are evasive. She struggles to give Patsy time even though she’s desperate to speak with her alone.

Her chance comes the night before Christmas Eve. Delia comes home late to find Patsy at the counter waiting for the water to boil; she takes the opportunity to watch Patsy and she stands and fidgets. Her bare foot comes up to rub at her calf muscle while she runs a hand through her messy hair. She’d clearly been sleeping before deciding to make a cup of tea; Delia wonders if she had another nightmare.

Patsy turns to find the sugar and startles when she finds Delia staring at her. She raises her hand in a half wave and apologizes for startling her. Patsy nods and quickly pulls her dressing gown over her mark. Delia tries not to flinch at the movement.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Delia asks, then, “Please don’t lie and say you’re not.”

Patsy sighs and after a moment looks up at Delia and lets her dressing gown fall back into place, _“You deserve better. Trixie told me you don’t have a mark, you don’t have to feel tied to me when you can have better.”_

Delia stares and is startled when the kettle begins to whistle, Patsy has her back turned to the stove so Delia uses the excuse to move closer to move the kettle off the burner. “Tied to you?” She asks after she turns to face Patsy, “I feel tied to you because I want to, not because I feel obligated to!”

 _“You could have anyone!”_ Patsy’s hands are fast frustrated, Delia can see the tears brimming in her eyes.

“I don’t want anyone else you fool!”

_“You don’t have a mark!”_

“Why do you care?” Delia nearly shouts.

“Because I love you.” Patsy’s voice is hoarse from her lack of use, the words a little clumsy, and quieter than Delia would have thought.

Delia stares at her and begins to unbutton her uniform to pull aside the fabric over her own collarbone. _Because I love you_ is there in Patsy’s neat block writing.

“You bloody fool. I tell people I don’t have one because it’s always scared me, but you, you don’t scare me.”

Patsy reaches out and touches the words with a feather-light touch. The touch makes Delia shiver, when she looks up at Patsy she sees her smile. And when she kisses her, it feels like home.

**Author's Note:**

> For regular nonsense: jellysnack.tumblr.com


End file.
